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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389259">Garrison Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionsfromsoup/pseuds/visionsfromsoup'>visionsfromsoup</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Musketeers (2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Athos Whump, Camaraderie, Gen, Hurt Athos, Hurt/Comfort, Sickness, life in the garrison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:13:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionsfromsoup/pseuds/visionsfromsoup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just drabbles and one-shots, freeform. I'll just post whatever comes up. I expect most of this to be short pieces, mainly Athos-centric, but we'll see.</p><p><b>Chapter One:</b> Food poisoning brings Athos to Aramis's doorstep. Lucky that he'd been staying at the garrison for a while instead of his rooms at Rue Férou.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Garrison Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Food poisoning brings Athos to Aramis's doorstep. Lucky that he'd been staying at the garrison for a while instead of his rooms at Rue Férou.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>The knock on the door roused Aramis from his sleep.</p><p>He frowned, looking around: it was still night, the lantern on the night-stand still burning bright. Through the gap above the worn, frilled curtain, the patch of sky he could glimpse was pitch black.</p><p>The knock came again - tentatively as if the visitor could change his mind any moment.</p><p>"Who is it?"</p><p>"...it's me."</p><p>Aramis threw the blanket aside and pulled to door open to find Athos leaning against the threshold, clearly unable to remain upright.</p><p>"Apologies, Aramis - I -"</p><p>"What's wrong?" Aramis took him by the elbow and guided him in.</p><p>"Must be.. something I ate. Didn't agree." Athos allowed Aramis to lead him to sit at the edge of the bed, head hanging low and sweat-dampened hair curtaining his face.</p><p>"Cramps?"</p><p>The marksman received a curt nod and a long, carefully released breath. Even through the hair and the shadows Aramis could see the tight lines around Athos's eyes. He must be in considerable pain. He squeezed the swordsman's shoulder.</p><p>"Wait here. Lie down if you want," he added as he grabbed his doublet against the chill and left for the infirmary.</p><p>The sick quarters was across the yard, in another wing of the garrison; Aramis crossed the empty space in long strides and entered the dark, empty infirmary, making straight for the medicine cabinet. He pulled the lid open and surveyed the shelf containing the small boxes of powder and the liquid vials in candlelight; picking up what he anticipated he may need, he quickly returned to his quarters.</p><p>There, he found Athos curled up on the bed, his back to the door. The tense lines of his shoulders and the harsh breathing was indicative that the situation might have escalated; Aramis left the supplies he had brought on the small table and walked to him.</p><p>"Do you have any idea what it might be?" he inquired softly, touching Athos's shoulder to get his attention. Athos shook his head, speaking through clenched teeth.</p><p>"I had dinner at - <em>La Chanteuse Décapitée</em> - with Porthos and - Bernard. Rabbit stew," he added as an afterthought, cracking open one eye to look up at Aramis. Aramis couldn't help but smile a little as he nodded.</p><p>"If it's the rabbit, I imagine Berdard's not feeling great right now, either."</p><p>"Porthos?"</p><p>"Would something like a little serving of rabbit faze Porthos?"</p><p>Athos huffed, then hunched in on himself as another wave of pain hit him, unable to contain a moan. Aramis's expression shifted into concern as he got up and rolled his sleeves.</p><p>"You have brought it up?"</p><p>Athos nodded.</p><p>"Good. I'll give you something that'll help settle your stomach." He measured the medicine he'd picked into a cup of wine and helped his friend drink it. "Give it a bit of time," he added, softly, "You should feel the effects soon."</p><p>But before it got better, it got rather worse.</p><p>The night wore on, with the intensity of the cramps crippling Athos getting to a point where Aramis began to seriously contemplate rousing the others and sending for a physician. Wringing out the cloths he'd wet, he perched on the bed and bathed Athos's face, unable to do anything else as Athos suffered, his face pressed into the pillow, his back resolutely turned towards the room. Beside the moans and whimpers he could not hold in, he was silent.</p><p>As the first signs of dawn began to dispel the darkness of the room, Aramis, exhausted, was bathing Athos's face for perhaps the twentieth time, the bent leg on which he sat aching considerably, observing, with cautious relief, that the harsh, uneven breathing that had marked the past several hours had somewhat quietened. The worst of it was over.</p><p>In the dull morning light, beneath the creases of pain still marking Athos's brow, he was ashen.</p><p>Pursing his lips, Aramis gently patted the shoulder closest to him.</p><p>"Better now?"</p><p>Athos's eyelids fluttered open, revealing glassy, pain-filled eyes, but he gave a nod.</p><p>"Good. Rest now, my friend."</p><p>Muster was approaching. Beyond the little window of Aramis's room, the garrison was slowly coming to life, the tumble of a supply cart rolling in, a door banging, the creak of the reel as water was drawn from the well. Standing, Aramis craned his neck to get rid of the knots he'd accumulated during the night, stretched, then gathered his clothes, weapons belt and a towel. With one last look over his shoulder to make sure Athos was sleeping, he left to refresh himself in one of the garrison wash-rooms.</p><p>***</p><p>"You look rough," were d'Artagnan's words of greeting as the Gascon strode in through the gate with his usual strong steps. Plonking his elbows on the table, Aramis dropped his head slowly into his hands.</p><p>"And a good morning to you too."</p><p>"Long night?" the Gascon asked a little more sympathetically as he sat across the marksman and reached for a bread bun. Aramis peered up at him and smiled wanly.</p><p>"Not the longest I've had but, long enough."</p><p>"Everything alright?"</p><p>"Quite alright," Aramis returned more lightly, pushing himself up. "Nothing to concern yourself with."</p><p>Scrutinizing the marksman for a moment, d'Artagnan shrugged and spread butter over his bread.</p><p>"Where's Athos?"</p><p>"Asleep, in my room. <em>He's</em> had a bad night."</p><p>D'Artagnan raised his eyebrows. "' 'Bad' as in <em>Athos</em> having a bad night, or...?"</p><p>"Bad as in what he ate for dinner didn't agree with him and he spent the night crippled with stomach cramps." He shook his head. "He was just falling asleep when I left. He should sleep the rest of the day."</p><p>Porthos approached them just then with a greeting nod and a sour expression on his face; slipping in on the bench, he directly reached for the water jug.</p><p>"Let me guess," Aramis said with a weary sigh, "your stomach's a little sore today."</p><p>Porthos nodded with a grimace. "A little. Thought it'd pass if I slept it off but-" he broke off and frowned. "'ow did you know that?"</p><p>Aramis and d'Artagnan exchanged a look before the Gascon spoke. "You may not have happened to have dinner with Athos last night by any chance, have you?"</p><p>"Yeah?" Porthos frowned, then realization dawned. "Not the stew-?"</p><p>"Apparently," Aramis confirmed with a nod. "Athos is a wreck."</p><p>"What - he alrigh'?"</p><p>"Should be. Which leaves Bernard."</p><p>"He was with them?"</p><p>Aramis nodded. </p><p>"I don't see him around," d'Artagnan noted, looking around the courtyard.</p><p>"Probably had as bad a night as Athos did, and if so, I don't expect he'll be fit to show up. Which reminds me," the marksman planted his palms on the table and pushed to his feet, putting on his hat, "I must brief Tréville."</p><p>Leaving his friends to their breakfast, he climbed the stairs with light steps and disappeared into the captain's room.</p><p>***</p><p>It was early afternoon when Athos put in an appearance, emerging into the yard without his weapons belt or hat, his forehead still slightly creased. The captain was just walking in from the training ground behind the garrison at the same time, and nodded at Athos as they fell in step.</p><p>"How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Well," Athos sighed deeply, "like I have been trampled by a horse, but I've had worse."</p><p>"Good. Will you be able to make it to the hunt tomorrow?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Sparing his lieutenant a quick glance as if to gauge the truthfulness of that response, Tréville gave a sharp nod and departed for his office.</p><p>"Good to see you up and about," Aramis greeted him at their usual table. "You've managed to get some sleep?"</p><p>Athos nodded. "I feel exhausted."</p><p>"Bad luck," Aramis said with a sympathetic shrug, pouring him a cup. <em>La Chanteuse Décapitée</em>, despite its unfortunate name, was a fine establishment the Musketeers frequented since it had opened some years ago, but every once in a while a serving of spoiled food was too normal an occurrence to make an issue of. Aramis pushed the watered wine towards Athos, then ran a hand down his face, pressing fingers on his eyes. </p><p>He looked up in surprise when he felt Athos touch his wrist.</p><p>"Thank you, my friend," Athos said quietly. "I am sorry you've had to sacrifice your night's sleep on my account."</p><p>Aramis smiled. "That's what friends are for, Athos. But," he added, rising and taking up his hat, "now that you owe me, I'm sure you'll no have difficulty explaining to the Captain why I won't be attending the hunt tomorrow."</p><p>Athos frowned. "That is not about the Captain; that is about the king."</p><p>Aramis grinned. "Then it's a good thing his Majesty enjoys hearing you speak, isn't it?"</p><p>Not waiting to see Athos roll his eyes, he turned around, and with a smile and a yawn, retreated to his quarters to seek his own rest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'd love to hear what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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